Frozen
by silver-tear-crystals
Summary: The fate of Middle-Earth rested on One Decision. (NOT S, NOT R)


Title: Frozen

Genre: Drama/Angst NOT ROMANCE/NOT SLASH

Rating: PG

Author: silver-tear-crystals

Let me tell you my story. I know you can hear me; even though you are not there. Sometimes, I imagine I am not alone. I used to be intact with life; but this, this is not life. It's amazing how much the material world is unfair. They brand me as crazy, but I tell a deeper truth than imaginable. It huts; yet I am too weary to be angry; and too weary to care. 

I draw me eyes away from the sunlight, refusing to look at the blank walls that surround me day and night. Instead, I watch my hands. They are oddly still, yet they are trembling. My eyes are closed then; I am dreaming, lost in the sea of memories, and joy in my heart. 

That world is gone.

I cry out; my voice is now rushed and I hardly make out the words, they are my natural tongue and it drives a stake through my heart. My story fills the quite air, and I believe, there is someone out there listening.

1. 

There was something wrong with the air, and she looked up from the water. In the distance, there was a mist. Her brows creased; and confusion settled on her face. The elves were winsome creations; Elrond knew what was coming, and he expected her to know, simply because they called her the being of higher rank. The forest was her existence, she was made of sunlight and moonlight, and there was something almost frightening about her. She was not beautiful; though this seemed strange. And he trusted her to know, though she hadn't the faintest idea.

The elves had been kind. Upon her body was the elegant silks of elven cloth; a lovely shade of ivory. Her dark hair had been tied back, a jewel resting between her eyes, settled upon the silver tiara which ran along her two hair partings. Yet, she could not be mistaken for an elf. There was no ethereal aurora, nothing. She was deemed a princess for the others to not ask questions; yet she hated the title.

Now, her eyes, tinted a strange shade of the nighttime sky, strayed across the horizon, and there was something beating within her heart. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was up, staring. The mist thickened. A strange song was upon the air, a sweet voice, yet it soon bordered with her mind, and was there no more.

"Come."

The voice was nothing like what had been there before, the whispers were gone. It was Elrond, his arms out-stretched in a fatherly manner, his features warm. 

"They need you."

"Who?" Her tone turned hollow. "No one may benefit from my Gift."

"Alas child, - "

"Do not call me that. I am far older then you, - "

"Do years mean knowledge?"

"No."

"They bear the Object of Ultimate Power. They draw nearer to Rivendell. And .. "

"I saw.. I saw something so terrible." She sunk to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring up at him, innocence mingling in her eyes. Yet it was sketched, and his expression did not change. "It will rule Middle-Earth, and I dare not get in the way."

"That is a chance we all must be willing to take."

She did not answer. The voices started up again, and against the horizon, she saw the mirage of 5 weary travelers. 

"Come."

2.

She saw the four figures only briefly. The one of importance was still asleep, and she did not care to see him. Instead, she brooded about Rivendell, staring aghast at the autumn changing, and trying to fight the fear within her heart. It clogged her mind, seized her existence, until she could only concentrate on it, and would break out in sweat and weep. No one ever came.

Elrond was the one who finally found her some days later, crouched by a fountain carved elegantly from stone. Water sprouted from the figure, and beads of it reached her skin. She was staring at the ground in silence.

"I saw it."

"What did you see?"

"The future."

"That is why you must talk to him, I hope you understand."

"He is the one in the coma?"

"He has awoken now."

"It was so vivid. I dare not interfere."

"You, you have no place here.. "

"Or anywhere."

"Have you ever loved?"

"No."

"Then you must not see why there is some things worth fighting for."

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

"I'm afraid."

"We're all afraid, child."

"Do not call me that."

"Then what may I call you?"

She looked up, hatred spilling from her eyes, yet Elrond was not fooled, for he had grown custom to this strange figure, and her strange ways of thought. 

"I have no name."

"Then let me name you. I ask for you to meet the Ring-Bearer, and tell him all you've seen. I ask you to be a shadow in his mind, yet take the form of an elf so he may concentrate on his task and the future of Middle-Earth."

"You know I will not be able to stay here, or in any place of this world."

"Then I will let you go. I will send you forth, where you may live forever."

She looked at the ground, staring at a patch of sweet-scented flora at her feet. Her eyes never found Elrond's, though she spoke. "Alright. I agree."

3.

She knew exactly where she was from, though she did not remember. This was why, when she stood in the woods, she could take the form of an elf, rather, the posture and frame. Others would not be fooled. Her grace was not real; and she was not pure.

He came quietly, looking about himself. A look of wonder was upon his face, childish wonder, and she recoiled her narrowed eyes, staring. He was alone, though lost in thought, and she found herself stepping forward.

The small figure started at her presence. He did not speak, rather his mouth gaped open and he too, recoiled. 

"Greetings, Frodo Baggins." She spoke softly, like she had seen the other [wen], the fair elf-maidens, do.

"Who are you?" His head was cocked slightly, startling blue eyes never leaving the misted figure. She wanted to run away, for this was not her place nor time, but stopped herself forcibly. "I am Lusthin. I've come to warn you, Frodo." The name had been given to her by Elrond, though she thought he would not believe it. She looked nothing like the ringing tone of the title.

"About what?"

Now, fear over-took her, and she rushed forth a few steps, anxiety clear on her face. The Hobbit drew a few paces back, startled.

"The ring Frodo. You must, in time, and when the choice is offered to you, go through the mines of Moria. Choose any other path, and you will never succeed on your quest."

She breathed a sigh of relief, and closed her eyes. Now, she had said all she knew, and anything furthermore, would be easier in contrast.

"How do you know this?" 

She flicked her eyes open and stared at him. The Hobbit looked slightly alarmed, hand clasp over his chest and seeking the Ring. Her lip curled slightly as she saw the small flicker of gold, so innocent.

"I have seen this."

"How?"

She felt herself grow angry, though her tone she kept low. A small pause. "I will fall in ruins, Frodo Baggins, for I cannot live with myself. Your fate has been given to you, something which none should know. You are an exception. I am an exception. Go now, do not ask me anything more. Go."

He turned and paused, and it seemed that the hardest thing for him was to leave. She stayed, and never felt her body crumble to the ground. He was gone, but she never saw. And in that moment, she knew that a warm light was engulfing her, and hoped that Elrond knew she was grateful to him, and that Middle-Earth, would forever be a part of her.

4.

The atmosphere was warm. Too warm. She shivered unpleasantly and opened her eyes. Up infront she saw a blank, cream colored wall. Four sides of it, all around her. Entrapping her; forcing her to breathe it in. She blinked, gasped, and jumped up. A startled cry as she felt her face. It was different; the lines had changed, they were nothing like before. In horror she gazed down at herself, felt the strange garments on he body. White, a white gown that reached her knees. Behind her, something clanged. In response, as if a nervous deer, she jumped and whirled around. In that instance, she took in the enclosed room; a metal bed, a chair, a small metal table, and nothing else. 

A round, sympathetic place was peering through a door, staring between the 4 bars that were the makeshift window. "There, there, darl', don't get yourself worked up."

She found herself not being able to speak, and let out a small whimper.

The face disapeared, though she could still here the fading voice. "…One of the tougher cases, that one."

Against her back she felt the wall, cool, firm, a supporting figure in the mist that enshrouded her vision. She slid down along it, staring aimlessly at the polished floor. "Oh Elrond," a fraught whisper. "Why did you send me here.."

It's weird. :-) I know, LOL!


End file.
